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I Come From
I come from dreams, drive, and diligence—
discouragement, disappointment, and defeat.
I come from 800 mile car rides to steamy southern Georgia—
traffic and headaches.
I come from passion, perseverance, and concentration—
letdown and regret stemming from recurring failure.
I come from bouncing balls against the freezing basement wall
tranquil and sedative.
I come from cool late-night bike rides around downtown Hartland
quiet and relaxing.
I come from early-morning feasts followed by prayer
peaceful and calming.
I come from tidy cupboards filled with clean plates and bowls—
carefully washed and polished.
I come from dark wood trim along curved staircases—
fancy and stylish.
I come from shiny white tile lining the kitchen floor—
mopped and cleaned daily.
I come from hopes of being the greatest,
ignoring signs that say otherwise.
I come from the doubt and skepticism that a small-town Midwestern athlete receives,
using the doubts as motivation.
I come from being the underdog,
fighting against the odds and overcoming adversity.
I come from dreams, drive, and diligence—
discouragement, disappointment, and defeat.
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